Quietly I Fall into the Darkness
by Mirai Kou Keli
Summary: Rated PG-13 for mature content and minor language, just read the story and review please. There are now four chapters, and I'm sorry it took so long, but y'know, school work and stuff. It might take a bit to get 5 up, but I'll try.
1. Musical Introduction

Quietly now, I slip into the shadows. The darkness envelopes me in a comforting shroud, a shroud fastened by the thread of tears and blood. A shroud of death. My cigarette falls now, as if in slow motion, until it hits the wet cement. I crush it with the heel of my black boots, real nice boots for kicking in the faces of the innocent. That seems to be all I am. The harbinger of ultra-violence, the dispeller of hope and truth. Why do I question my existence? It seems this is all I am meant to be. I do not worry anymore. Just slip, so slowly, into the shadows . . . .  
  
"Hey, Rosary," The emotionless tone of a fellow soldier stirs me and I turn. It is hard to be a woman in a world of war. Codename: Rosary; I am a woman of beauty and seduction … and death. My kiss is fatal; I am a rattlesnake, ready to pounce. It is a lonely life. But it is a life.  
  
I turn and stare out the train window, burgundy and brown swirling about in the compartment of the Midnight Express. "What is it, Dalzell?" I ask, my yellow eyes staring into my reflection and seeing a pair much like my own.  
  
"Who is this 'Viscous' you want to see so badly? I think it's a bad deal," said a fat man with mo hair and a pencil thin mustache, all the while preparing to light a fat cigar, "Getting mixed up with the Red Dragons is no business for a couple of small fries like us. I have a bad feeling."  
  
My eyes begin to shine, and I turn away from my reflection with mild disgust. "Don't worry, Dalzell, I have experience dealing with the big boys." I smile with false seduction and touch his chin with my gleaming fingernails. In a baby voice, I pinch his cheeks and say, "You'll find these boys are no more than pussy cats." I finish as I lightly slap the round protrusions hanging near his mouth.  
  
He looks at me like an animal and I am disgusted. I never had a stomach, let alone an appetite, for the likes of him. He smiles, his beaver teeth cutting into his bottom lip. "Miss Rosary," he says, a little more familiar than before, " I have nothing but the utmost trust in your judgment. But this 'Viscous' is a shady guy, and he has enemies we know almost nothing about. Despite your…persistence…in following through with this, I still want the record to show I'm against it."  
  
I smiled, wrapping an inky curl around my slender, white finger. "The record has shown, and the record doesn't give a damn."  
  
"Just as long as you know."  
  
Spike pulled at his shoe until it slipped comfortably over his long foot. He would need new shoes soon. He was 27 and still his feet were growing. He would've gotten shoes long ago, the fact that his feet grew did not bother him at all. It was the fact that a good pair could cost as much as 500 wulong that scared him. Why waste so much money on shoes?  
  
"Hullo, Spike!" The fuzzy topped girl with rosy cheeks stood in the door, a dog whining at her feet. "Ein is hungry." She grabbed her stomach and whined. "So is Ed."  
  
Spike sighed with annoyance twining around his deep voice. "Edward, why don't you go bother Jet. He's the one who cooks around here. Or," he added, almost as an afterthought, "Faye. She's the woman. She can get you something to eat."  
  
Ed smiled her crazy little smile. "Nope. Faye's chasing a bounty, and Jet said we are out of food." She bent over and patted Ein atop his chestnut head. "Yes, are we not out of food, Ein?"  
  
Spike muttered, "Damn kid. You talk funny, too." He pulled himself to his feet. "All right, sit down. We'll stop somewhere and find something to eat. If Faye's chasing a bounty, we'll have some money." He looked up as an epiphany struck him. "If she decides to share."  
  
Edward ran by him, arms outward and airplane noises spouting from her throat. Spike sighed and flung himself down on the couch again. Rather than get up and face the noises of a child, he turned on the CTV (Computer Television) and watched as his favorite program began.  
  
"Woooooooooooweeeeeeeee! Welcome to Big Shots, senores and senoras!" A black cowboy with an over exaggerated Mexican accent yelled out, "Today we will look at the meanest cucarachas you can imagine!"  
  
"Oh," exclaimed a high-pitched blonde with near bared breasts, "What kind of cucarachas are you talking about?"  
  
"Well," he answered, "The first is not uno, but dos cucarachas! It is a young woman who is known by the name of Rosary and a man who goes by Dalzell. The woman is 25 years old, has yellow eyes of different colors, and black hair she usually wears up in a bun. She has a tattoo of a rosary upon her right ankle and often hides out in Catholic churches."  
  
"Oh," the blonde yelled in effect, "How awful! That must be how she got the name Rosary!"  
  
"Yeah," Spike commented from the couch as he poured a glass of Jack, "Real perceptive."  
  
"Yes, it is," The black cowboy continued, "And this Dalzell is a fat man with a brown mustache and big, buck teeth. He is balding, in his late 40s, and often wears a toupee."  
  
"So," asked the blonde, "What is the bounty on this dastardly duo?"  
  
"Well, mi amigos, I think you will all be pleasantly surprised. The bounty on these two is great. However, they must be caught alive and together, or else there is nada!"  
  
"Oh, please," the blonde whined, "Just tell us the bounty!"  
  
"Well," he proudly exclaimed, "The bounty is just over 20,000,000 wulong!"  
  
"What?!" A head popped from the hall into the 'living room', not noticing the hanging jaw of Spike. "Did he just say 20,000,000 wulong?!"  
  
Spike set his glass upon the table. "No," he said, a smile beginning to form, "He said 'over' 20,000,000! Can you believe it?" He began to laugh, giggles bursting from his chest.  
  
Jet joined in. "Man, if we catch that pair, we'd be set for life!"  
  
"Yeah, if."  
  
The two turned to see a cross violet-haired vixen in the doorway. Jet let out a whoosh of annoyance while Spike did naught but smiled. She walked into the 'living room', hips turning under her hands. "What makes you two think you're skilled enough to fight these two? Plus, if the bounty is that much, there has to be something dangerous about them. What if they're associated with the Red Dragons? Or with Viscous? Or some other ring-leader we know less about?"  
  
Jet and Spike looked sideways at each other. "Well," Jet said in his deep, calm voice, "If that's the way you feel, 20,000,000 is a lot easier to split between two than it is three." He and Spike walked past her now frozen face. "See ya. Watch Edward."  
  
She turned around, her voice leavened with sugar and honey. "Wait a minute."  
  
Spike turned. "Yes?"  
  
She smiled, seductively curling her crimson lips and pulling a gun from her holster. Cocking it, she said, "If you plan on taking down a woman, you need a woman's help."  
  
I light a cigarette, Marlboro Red, and suck on it with pleasure. My painted lips leave a blood red ring about the filter, and now I think it truly is a Red. The taste is sweeter than anything I ever have placed within the confines of my mouth, and I smile. Dalzell pours a drink into my glass, some exotic wine, but it bumps with the tracks and I am filled with only more distaste for the man. But to fulfill such a dangerous mission on my own would be suicide, so I let him play lapdog to me. I intend to keep him on a very short leash.  
  
"My dear Rosary, can you not hear me?" The fat man looks at me with concern, not realizing that I have been ignoring his every movement, every shift of his jiggling body. I want to turn with contempt, but it would be hard to find a lackey with only days to go. He had been my faithful servant for months, and I still had use for him. Besides, I am not completely without gratitude.  
  
"It must be the wine." He nods and does not sense my growing agitation. I stand, the folds of my crimson dress swaying across the floor. I turn back to him and say, "I am going to bed now. Wake me if there is any trouble." He nods, and I turn, sleep so desperately deserved.  
  
Behind me, I hear Dalzell mutter, "What a lovely woman," but I do not give him any indication that I hear. I just want to sleep.  
  
Quietly now, I slip into the shadows. The darkness envelopes me in a comforting shroud, a shroud fastened by the thread of tears and blood. A shroud of death. My cigarette falls now, as if in slow motion, until it hits the wet cement. I crush it with the heel of my black boots, real nice boots for kicking in the faces of the innocent. That seems to be all I am. The harbinger of ultra-violence, the dispeller of hope and truth. Why do I question my existence? It seems this is all I am meant to be. I do not worry anymore. Just slip, so slowly, into the shadows . . . . But then there is a face. He has two eyes of different colors. One eye sees the past, one eye sees the future…. 


	2. Rose Gospel

A tall, skinny girl with rosy cheeks and yellow eyes looks into the empty bay. A chestnut dog barks shrilly at her feet. "Jeez, Ein," she says unto him, "I don't know where they went. I hope they bring back some food." The dog lays his ears down and whimpers.  
  
*  
  
"Come on, Spike," Faye yells with annoyance into her com, "We've been cruising for hours! Don't you have any lead on this bounty, or did your wallet speak before you got a chance to think?"  
  
"Oh, shut up," he retorted, clicking her off. He leaned back in his cruiser and stared out his window. He did have one bit of evidence. He lifted his fingers, in them, a business card. It was just a little something he had picked up at a hotel near here after running a credit check on some areas were this Rosary chick was suspected to be. They hit a trail in Neo New York City (named so after the Reconstruction of 2014, but still referred to as New York by the locals). That's all it was, a thin card. It belonged to some man named William Dalzell, though, and that was important. Dalzell was never a real common name. Spike smirked as he remembered the waitress whom had given it to him.  
  
*  
  
"Yeah," said the blonde in the tight aqua and salmon colored uniform, "This creepy old guy said I should call him if I ever wanted a night on the town." Though she wasn't a brain surgeon, obviously, she seemed to understand the difference between a good lay and a cheapening fling. "He was fat, and he had this perverted looking mustache."  
  
"Well," Jet asked in his smooth voice, "How old was this guy?"  
  
She scrunched her nose. "I don't know. Forty? Fifty?" She shivered in disgust. "He was a real pedophile, that one."  
  
Faye nodded, giving Jet a sideways look. "I sympathize completely." Ignoring his befuddled look, she added, "Did you happen to get this guy's name?"  
  
"Well," she said as she fiddled in her pockets. Apparently finding what she was looking for, she held a thin card out to Spike, "No, but he gave me this. I hope it helps you."  
  
*  
  
It wasn't much help. It told him the name of the man, William Dalzell, and it had a hotel or motel number scrawled across the back in purple ink. This may seem like a lot, but in the city of Neo New York there were about 200 hotels and a million run down little motels. Spike couldn't think of much else to do, other than fly around the area with the most hotels grouped and use binocular viewing to stare in the windows of hotels. Not as smooth as Spike normally would have gone, but it was 20,000,000 wulong, after all.  
  
"Hey, Spike," Jet's voice crackled over Spikes com, "I just thought of something."  
  
"Yeah, and what's that?"  
  
"That business card is fairly old. It might not even be to a hotel near here. It could be a hotel on Venus, for all we know. Or someplace they may be going. Or maybe that waitress is taking us for a ride." Spike didn't let Jet see the annoyance on his face as they headed back to Bebop.  
  
*  
  
"Are those hover crafts still twisting around outside?" I turned to Dalzell and lowered my shades. He was an idiot.  
  
"No," I replied, "Or yes. It doesn't matter. I seriously doubt they were the police."  
  
Dalzell lifted his brows, the most criticism he ever showed me. "Miss Rosary, why else would there be three hovercrafts spinning around the skies?"  
  
I sat in an oversized chair and smiled best I could. "A few young boys trying to peek into the showers of young ladies. Or thieves checking to see if there are any big hits they could pull off later on." I laughed slightly. "Did you know thieves like stealing from the elderly the best? They put up less of a fight. But if I were a thief, I would steal from fat men like yourself. You sleep like a baby. Less messy." I cocked an eyebrow. "What about you, Dalzell? Who would you steal from?"  
  
He ignored me and went over to his mini-bar. "Would you like a drink, Miss Rosary?" he asked me as he poured himself a martini, minus the olive, plus a pearl onion.  
  
"No," I answered with a sigh as I pulled myself from the chair. I put my hand behind my head to make sure my hair was still neatly up, and added, "I'm leaving now. We'll rendezvous tomorrow at 6 am at the coffee shop down the street."  
  
"Why don't we go back to that one we went to yesterday?"  
  
I frowned. "Stupid. We might as well throw ourselves in prison." I gathered my handbag from the floor and swung over to the door. I raised my hand in a gesture of goodbye. Once out in the street, crowds milling past, I quickly made my way to St. Patrick's Cathedral about 4 blocks down. I walked through the already open doors with a smile.  
  
*  
  
"Oh," Faye sighed as she stared into her mug. 'This sucks, you know. I can't believe he hovered for hours just because Spike lost his head."  
  
"Hey!" he retorted, "Don't blame me! If you were any kind of woman, we would have found him by now. You said you could-"  
  
"Well you're the official bounty hunter," she cut in, "Not me! It isn't my fault you're an idiot!"  
  
Jet pulled back into the booth as the two broke into a fight, trying his best to ignore the yells. The possible loss of 20,000,000 wulong wasn't easy to cope with. He focused his attention on two old women leaving the booth next to him. One turned to him and smiled. "Hello, miss," he said to her as polite he could. She smiled back and he added, "So where we off to?"  
  
"Oh, she answered, "Just mass at the church."  
  
"Mass?"  
  
"Oh, yes, we're Catholic, and…"  
  
Spike broke from his argument with Faye and focused on the woman. "Excuse me, ma'am, did you say there's a Catholic church nearby?"  
  
"Oh," she answered in a weak old voice, "Yes. Just up the road. Me and my grandchildren go together sometimes and we have just a lovely time."  
  
He nodded and smiled slyly. "Sounds lovely."  
  
"Oh, it is, it is." She turned. "Well, Pearl and I must be going."  
  
As they left, Spike turned to Jet and Faye with a smile. "You know, I think we may have a lead." 


	3. Hymn of the Rattlesnake

Everything is gone. There are no more beginnings, and no more happy endings. It is only ugliness and fornication. Why have I forgotten you? My father, my mother…. There is nothing left but shadows. I stare at my fingernails and see snakes. Why won't they leave? The snakes wrap around me until I am one of them, one of the demon creatures. I am twisted and ugly. The only thing I have are my eyes. My eyes are human. One eye sees the truth, one eye sees prophecies wrapped in mist. I am waiting for the one of my dreams, my visions. The man who sees the past….  
  
*  
  
"Hello, Sister," I say as I stare into the pasty face of a nun, "I must request something of your church. You see, I am on a business trip with a man and we were to share a bed. He promised to be a gentlemen, but I found him quite lecherous. Can you give me a room for the night?"  
  
She blinked in surprise, then gave me a kind smile. "Of course, child," she answered as she placed an arm upon my shoulder and began to lead me down a hall. "Right this way. We will find a priest and he can tell us where to bed you." She turned to me with concern. "I'm afraid we haven't much to offer."  
  
I smile as though I am a victim and say, "I understand. No worries," laughing softly I, add, "Right?"  
  
Her smile grows softer and wider, her lids covering her eyes in sympathy. "Of course, my child." Perhaps it was wrong of me to take comfort in her sympathy. I felt no need for it. It was just so nice to have someone genuinely care for you. How sad that my care had to come from a stranger.  
  
She took me into a room and told me to wait there while she spoke to the Father. It was a small room, with a desk, a few scattered chairs and bulletin board. It must be where they taught Sunday school. There was a window and, staring from it, I could see the people milling across the street like damnable ants. There where cars and zip crafts flooding the streets and the air. I took notice as a few landed near the church. They seemed familiar….  
  
*  
  
"Jet," Spike said with a cool confidence, "I'll check the upstairs and see if anyone has seen her. You check the downstairs."  
  
"Right." He nodded, then turned to Faye. "Hey, you check the congregation and see if anyone fitting this Rosary woman's description is singing 'alleluia' with the rest of them. Got it?"  
  
She nodded. "Yeah, right." She was the first to go. Covering her eyes in blackened shades, she calmly walked through the aisle, ignoring the startled looks of people who seemed to notice her outfit.  
  
"What's that slutty looking thing doing in a church?" she heard someone whisper. She turned to see who would say such an unholy thing, but rather a face in the crowd caught her eye. It was a woman who looked to be about 20 or 25. Her hair was tightly fixed into an inky black bun. Faye smiled and pushed her way through the sea of bodies.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Watch it, girl!"  
  
"How rude can you get?!"  
  
"Hey, baby, you are looking good…."  
  
Faye ignored the calls and licked her lips when she reached the turned bounty head. "Rosary, you are under arrest!" She yelled as she grabbed her shoulder and flung her around.  
  
"Aieeee! Nani?!" It was an Asian girl. Faye sighed.  
  
"Uh," she laughed, "Sorry. Gomen. Shing shaw, or whatever. It–uh- won't happen again."  
  
The woman raised a fist. "Zamawomiro!"  
  
*  
  
Jet turned the corner with a glare. He knew he had heard *something. "Oh, God, my heart is gonna give up on me. I'm too old to be doing stuff like this." He wavered when he heard the sudden move of a creature behind him. He turned quickly. He saw something….there! He raised his gun to shoot at the next breathing thing, and then he saw it! He saw it! He dropped his gun in shock and stared straight into the eyes of…a cocker spaniel?  
  
*  
  
"Rosary," Spike whistled, making a little ditty as he quietly strolled up the steps. He knew she was up here, and he began to sing. "Rosary, the Catholic rose; wherever you are, only I know; 20 million a head; you cannot be dead; Rosary, I want you." He heard a noise overhead and was not willing to risk an ambush, and a defeat, at the hands of a woman. Slowly he drew a Desert Eagle and began to make his move.  
  
*  
  
I heard the whistling and thought it perhaps my imagination. Such a lovely tune. Yet I could then hear clicks on the steps. My ears may have been betraying me, or maybe I was just neurotic, but I thought I could hear the cocking of a .50AE Magnum. I had watched three people enter the mass from those zip crafts. Still I hadn't a clue of who they were. Not only did the crafts, themselves, seem familiar, but the people struck a chord as well. I was sure I did not know who the woman was, but those men. She could almost remember the man with the prosthetic from a battle long ago…perhaps he was, at one time, a cop. But he seemed a little old for having been my pursuer once. I let it go.  
  
But the other. He seemed so familiar, like I knew him well, but never had met him. Still, it was futile to think of these things when it was obvious there was danger coming about. I reached into my handbag and pulled out an Iron Cross, the best handgun I knew to exist, and shoved the barrel into the air in front of me. If anyone planned on coming in here, they would have to get through a hellfire of bullets and blood.  
  
There was a turn of the knob…Carefully, I took aim, cocked, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet traveled through the door with perfect ease and I could hear nothing. There was no slump of a body, and I was disappointed until I remembered that the nun was planning on returning. Fear gripped my heart. I was a ruthless hunter, but a rattlesnake never kills what they cannot eat. I brought my gun to my side and ran to the door. I flung it open and ran straight into the barrel of a Desert Eagle.  
  
"Hello, Rosary."  
  
The voice was calm and straight. I looked at a man with fuzzy green hair. The one who I had seen walk into the church with those others. He smiled like a demon who had found a soul to corrupt. "I would suggest you drop your gun. I cannot kill you, but I can wound you severely. They'll be feeding you from a tube."  
  
I glared, but what could I do? I dropped my Cross, my shield. But I was ready. I would find a way out of this. And if I didn't, I had it all worked out for Dalzell to take the fall. I would do 3 years, tops. He told me to straighten myself, and I did so. He turned me round and slapped cuffs upon my wrists, a little tight for my taste, but able. "Now," he said, "You will take us to find Dalzell."  
  
My mind worked quickly. There must have been a bounty only if we were together. "Of course, Mr.-uh, what would I call you?"  
  
"Just call me Spike."  
  
"Well, Spike," I continued, "Dalzell is meeting with some associates in an unspecified-to-me location. He'll be back tomorrow, and I'll take you to him then."  
  
"Is this a ploy?"  
  
He sounded angry, so I softened my voice. "Why," I laughed, " Would I care if that man was taken in? He's the ringleader. He'll be taking the rap."  
  
Spike seemed satisfied and turned me back around. Slowly, I looked into his eyes. Quietly I gasped.  
  
"What?" He looked at me with annoyance.  
  
"You…" I began. I took a deep breath. "You're eyes are different colors."  
  
He laughed. "Yeah," he said, "One eye sees the present, the other sees-"  
  
"The other sees the past." 


	4. Jam Session

*Author's Notes- Up until now, the first person views were always Rosary's. Now I am making all scenes with Rosary 3rd person, and all first person accounts belong to Viscous.  
  
I am a fallen angel. When angels are refused re-entry into the gates of heaven, they become demons. I once shone so brightly that I was given ordinance over the Earth. I was the human Lucifer. Now, just as he, I am cast aside. But I am not without power. Fear is my weapon. I strike the hearts of hundreds, and soon, secretly I will hold power over that who I hate. The man who made me into this demon. It is his fault I was cast aside. So he will die quickly.  
  
*  
  
"Viscous," I hear from behind. It is the sound of Shin. "We are now within 100 kilometers of Neo New York. Would you like me to contact Rosary?"  
  
I lower my head and allow my lids to cover my blank eyes. "No." I whisper, my voice sliding off my tongue like oil, "We told her tomorrow, so we will not contact her until then. It is better security."  
  
He nods. "Yes, sir," he says in a brisk turn. I admire this man, Shin. Though a yes man, he is an honest yes man concerned with I. That makes him as best a yes man could be. He is the only man I trust to know anything and everything.  
  
**  
  
"Let me go!" The woman with the coal black hair pulled at the cuffs until they bit into her wrists. "I'm worth nothing without Dalzell! It would be futile to take me in!"  
  
Spike grimaced. "Man," he muttered, "I hate chicks with attitude." He pushed himself from the couch and looked upon her with amusement on his face. She was wearing a lovely crimson dress and heels; a real 'paint-the- town-red' kind of look. But here she was, stuck to a bean bag chair and handcuffed to a coffee table. "Listen, lady," he groaned, "Shut up and I'll get you some coffee. You seem to have the equipment for it," he added, cocking his head toward the coffee table.  
  
She smirked. "You have a shockingly stupid sense of humor. But I'll take it black."  
  
The Bebop sat bulkily in an inexpensive port. Spike walked down the hall, wondering how much more time would pass by before they could leave the mind numbing scenery of Neo New York. Never had Spike thought Earth could be so desolate.  
  
He herded himself into the kitchen and pulled two small Styrofoam cups from the dingy white counter top. He poured a couple cups of coffee, glad she demanded black since all sugar and cream seemed naught but a dream in these trying times. Oh, well, he thought, Once we turn her in, we'll have all the sugar we need. Once she leads us to this Dalzell fellow, we'll have over 20 mil in the bag.  
  
**  
  
"Hellooooo!"  
  
Rosary turned to stare into the tanned face of what appeared to be a young boy. She frowned. "Just what do you want?" she asked with a glazed tone and slanted eyes.  
  
The boy giggled in a strangely high-pitched manner. "Your name is Rosary, right? The "bounty head"? That's what Faye calls you."  
  
Rosary snorted. She opened her mouth to say something very cruel, something that would most likely crush the soul of such a young child, when her common sense kicked into her head. "Hey, kid," she said pleasantly, "What's your name?"  
  
"I am Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth! Or you can just call me," he spun on his toe, "Radical Edward!" He bowed deeply. "Thank you, thank you!"  
  
Rosary smiled. I have one day, she thought, One day to find my way out of here. But I can't just leave the man I saw there. The man with two eyes. If only my visions would be clearer! Then I would know what to do.  
  
Edward smiled. "You look uncomfterable. Would you like Ed to take those handcuffs off of you?"  
  
Rosary snapped to attention. "Huh?"  
  
Ed just smiled. "I said," he overemphasized this, indicating his annoyance with having to repeat himself, "Would you like Edward to take off those handcuffs? They look awfully uncomfterable."  
  
Rosary felt herself grinning. Idiocy was smoother than clay. "Yes, what a good little boy you are!"  
  
Edward laughed as she crouched down, knees touching ears, and began to fiddle with the lock and a hairpin. "Edward is a girl, silly," she laughed wildly at Rosary's shock, and added, "Don't worry. Ed gets boy a lot."  
  
***  
  
Spike heard a crazy laugh from the living room. He frowned. "Edward must be driving that woman crazy. Even if she's a bounty, I feel bad for her." He finished the last drop in his coffee. He stared disdainfully at the full cup next to it, then wrapped his slender hand around it. A jazzy hand. That's what the woman had called it when he brought her to the Bebop.  
  
He frowned. How? How had that woman known he had two eyes of two colors? It made no sense! It was impossible to believe, yet…No matter. He couldn't fill his head with ideas. He had a cool 20 mil to make, everyone's problems vanishing before their eyes. It wasn't his problem if this girl was a freak. She would have to handle it herself. Anyways, it's not like he even cared. She had probably just guessed what he was going to say. It had been obvious even to him. But still…  
  
He felt a pressure on the back of his neck, then heard the sound of a gun cocking. He slowly turned his face around and smiled despite himself to see Rosary standing there. "Well, how'd you get free?"  
  
Rosary frowned. "It doesn't matter. Now," She threw the gun to the floor, "We need to settle something. First, look me in the eye."  
  
Spike was shocked by this, and found himself obeying rather than retrieving the pistol. He saw two yellow eyes, one a deep gold and the other a lemon color. He raised his brows. "Your eyes. They're different colors."  
  
She smiled, strangely moved by the fact he actually saw it. Not even Dalzell had noticed. Only the police and Vicious. "Yes. You see," she touched her lemon eye, "My glass eye sees things that I've never known. I see people, shapes, places. I see visions of the future."  
  
He said nothing for a moment, then, "How?"  
  
She turned her head away. "A mistake. Then, a battle. I escaped, but they got my eye. Cybernetic Incorporations replaced my eye. After that I began to see these things."  
  
Spike tried not to reveal his surprise, but his eyes gave him away. "Cybernetic Incorporations…. That's where my eye came from as well." 


End file.
